Hattori put his hand upon his dagger, but Kano, with a friendly motion of his hand, calmed him. “There may be something in that,” he said thoughtfully. “Mind you!” he continued, “I do not underrate Japanese courage, but we do not know the strength of these barbarians. We have been living like frogs in a well. It is easy enough to engage in war, but it is best to know the number of the enemy, before you engage in what may prove too heavy odds. Such a thing would be foolish. But we may come to a settlement with the Tokugawa. If indeed, their samurai have lost their courage, then my lord of Choshiu may recover the land from which he was robbed, and I may avenge my ancestor’s death. When will the councillors of the clan meet?”
“The day after to-morrow,” replied Hattori.
Kano clapped his hands, and ordered the servant to send up dinner for his guests and himself. Hattori and Ito made some excuses, but were easily induced to remain.
Small tables were brought in and placed before each man. First sake or wine made from rice, was served hot, and a small stone bottle placed near each person; then there was _suimono_, a sort of vegetable soup, after which rice was ladled out into cups or bowls. A number of side dishes, such as pickled _daikon_, a sort of giant radish, _tsubo_ or stewed sea-weed, and soy, a sauce, were enjoyed by the samurai.
The conversation had been interrupted when the servants entered, and was not resumed. The men spoke of the ceremony to take place the next day; and Ito was invited. Before leaving, however, Kano told Hattori that he would ask the councillors of the clan to remain after the reception was over, so that they might discuss their plans for the future.
Ito and Hattori bowed good-bye, as they were going in different directions. Each carried a lantern, for it was dark, and there was no street lighting in Japan at that time. At the corner of the street, Ito stopped as if in doubt. Then, after a few moments, he seemed to make up his mind, for he turned to the left, and went hastily toward the castle entrance. The heavy gate was closed, but the little side gate stood ajar. Ito entered, and giving his name to the officer of the guard, went along the barracks where many of the samurai of lower rank dwelt. At last he stopped before a small door, and knocked softly. He heard a shuffling of feet, and a woman’s voice demanded who was there.